SRI LANKA SRI LANKA TRAVEL Sri Lanka: Sigiriya, Pinnewala and Hospital
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Bandarawela (1) Bentota (2) Beruwala (3) Colombo (8) Dambulla (3) Dehiwala (1) Galle (1) Hendala (1) |
Hikkaduwa (1) Kalutara (1) Kandy (5) Kirinda (1) Kitulgala (2) Koggala (1) Kotawella (1) Mount Lavinia (1) |
Negombo (4) Nuwara Eliya (2) Siduwa (2) Sigiriya (1) Wadduwa (1) Wattappola (1) |
Sri Lanka: Sigiriya, Pinnewala and Hospital |
 Another day, another hotel and another driver. Following yesterday's car crash we were met in reception by a young man who had been sent as a replacement driver. Padmasiri had spent the evening in custody and was not currently available to us, so we would continue the tour with a substitute. This new driver seemed to be half Siri's age, with a quarter of his skill and a tenth of his personality ... Our hotel was virtually in the shadow of "Lion Rock" so, even though it was Sunday, we were amongst the first few people to arrive there. (Later, when we came to leave, we would be thankful to have missed the hordes now trooping up the rock face!) The "rock" is far larger and infinitely more impressive than it appears in photographs. The approach through immaculate formal gardens is quite stunning, but memorable for all the wrong reasons: A "scrum" quickly ensued when a small army of guides descended on us: Arriving early meant we were their only potential targets :o( When we finally emerged from the jabbering pack Jan had a wiry Sri Lankan on each elbow, her feet barely touching the ground as we were propelled towards the rock. After a little gentle "persuasion" we managed to lose one of the guides and persuade the other to stay at arms length.... At the end of the gardens the route upward is initially quite civilised, via gentle terraces of steps. Suddenly you find yourself at the base of a sheer rock face onto which a rusty cylindrical cage has been attached. Inside the cage a spiral staircase ascends to a ledge and a further steel-sheeted walkway traversing the rock face. Jan gulped, gave me a crinkly grin, then clanged her way up to the ledge hotly pursued by her guide. I joined her on the ledge and then stood, transfixed, facing bright frescoes of the Sigiriya Hand-Maidens. It was astonishing to see how vibrant and well-preserved they were, considering their age and exposed location. Further along the ledge the wall was once polished as brightly as a mirror. Over the centuries it has been covered with graffiti, some dating back to the 7th century AD! We emerged onto the Lion platform where we rested for a while before making the final ascent. In front of us two enormous Lion's feet straddled steps to the summit. Once the whole rock face had been covered by a brick lion facade, the steps passing through the lion's mouth. Now only the feet and parts of the body remain. Once again a ramshackle iron staircase provided the only way up. Emerging at the summit we were breathless from the climb and speechless because of the view! Amidst the foundations of the buildings that once covered the summit was a massive swimming pool, and a stone throne facing the rising sun. Way, way below the water gardens were spread out, the high vantage point giving the best possible view of their immaculate layout. We were blessed to share the summit with just half a dozen others ... for we passed a continuous stream of perspiring bodies as we made our descent. Once we got to the bottom we were rather sad that the experience was over. Sigiriya is one of the few places we would wish to visit again, confident that it will be just as impressive on re-acquaintance and that there is much still left unseen. Back in the car we headed off to Pinnewalla via Dambulla. The journey was quite a hair-raising experience, our driver regularly attempting to overtake on blind bends and hurtling through villages at high speed. We saw little of Dambulla because our guide didn't have the same attitude to Siri: Whereas Siri was a walking encyclopaedia intent on helping us to enjoy our tour, this driver was simply following a schedule. We thundered on, arriving at the elephant orphanage just as the animals were returning from their daily bath in the river. The visitors were drifting away. Once again fate was on our side: we followed the elephants into the orphanage and, with all visitors departed, were able to mingle with the youngsters as they were being bottle fed. We strolled freely among the adult ellies, offering them sugar cane as the light slowly faded. Back in the car on the long drive to Wadduwa I began to feel quite unwell - throat sore, voice disappearing and a little feverish. Eventually my voice gave up completely and we had to seek help from a medical centre. After swallowing some dubious potions we piled back into the car and hurtled on through the night surviving another madcap drive. Back at the hotel a doctor was summoned. A shiny-faced you the with a stethoscope and a large (virtually empty) black bag. "You must go to hospital and be put on a drip," he said. "No thanks", I croaked. "OK, take two paracetamol every three hours" .... and he was gone! During the night my throat deteriorated to the point that it closed up and I could not breathe laying down. Siri, bless him, had turned up at reception to make sure we were both back safely from the tour. He quickly bundled me into a car and took me to Kalutara hospital where I was ushered past rows of elderly woman lying in the corridors to see a doctor. This wonderful man had returned from working in the NHS to care for his own people. He quickly diagnosed acute tonsillitis and prescribed penicillin. He apologised profusely for the poor care we had received last night and would take no payment, leaving me feeling even more guilty as we left once more past the queues of sick and elderly patients. The next day we were due to take a boat trip down Bentota Ganga but our lovely receptionists made all the necessary arrangements to postpone the excursion. They also provided me with paper and a fax machine so that I could fax details of the accident to Padmasiri's agency. We had not been asked to make statements and I was determined that they should know that he was entirely blameless, that he was a superb guide and that I wanted no other on future excursions we had booked.
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